Words of the cold
by mimi 007
Summary: He was found by a man who would change his world, recognizing everything he thought he would never be. The decision to live his life for this man was not as hard as some might think.


Here is another one for the 100 Confessions Competition, this time with the prompt fire and the characters Zabuza and Haku. Haku has to be one of the most adorable characters, in the same category as Kimimaru. I may just have a thing for innocent beings getting used by evil creatures.

Disclaimer: I still do not own Naruto or any of the characters. Please don't kill me D: (kidding ^^)

For the twentieth day in a row, the snow was falling. It was so light and so little that the snow did not become too thick a layer to walk through. For a child, though, without a home or friends and family to care for him, the constant snow was life threatening. No alley could hide you from the cold and no money could buy boots to keep his bare feet dry and warm.

The small kid stood outside a shop, his eyes staring longingly at the goods on the other side of the big windows. This was his best place, the part of the whole city with the best food. His tongue slipped out of his mouth, into the dry air and onto the dry lips. He was hungry, and in his hunger, he nearly was able to forget the cold that threatened to be his death.

Of course, with no money he was unable to buy anything from the most expensive bakery in the Land of Water. No, the things he was longing and fighting for was in the alley behind the bakery, but he always stood in the knee-deep snow outside the shop to fantasize about the taste of the powdery sugar or the flowing cream in some of the most costly cakes.

His frozen feet began moving, not seeming to care for the whitish-blue color his toes had gotten. They looked like that all hours of the day. He turned the corner, trying to be stealthy, but a ragged kid with bare feet looking as nice as he never moved unnoticed despite his low status in the civil hierarchy. People cast worried glances at his shadow, but as soon as he was out of sight running into an alley or turning a corner of the street, he was out of their minds. Orphans were too common.

The boy reached his goal, the big container filled with day-old bread, failed cake and various more disgusting objects. A rat the size of his feet saw him approach and hissed angrily before retreating to its hole in the basement of a house. The black-haired boy cared not, ignoring the stench as he took off the lid of the waste container and stood on a box to be able to look down the giant box.

Everything that once might have been edible got put into his mouth, his screaming stomach forcing him to eat by causing immense pain. He ignored the rotten milk cartons and cut his fingers digging through opened cans and other scraps of metal. The desperation filled more to him than the pain or disgust.

When his stomach was nearly satisfied, he noticed a dirty blanket at the near bottom. Longingly, he took the corner and pulled it up, not caring for the holes and torn parts of the fabric. When he had it free, he heard the door to the bakery behind him open. For a second, he froze; he had already experienced what would happen if he was found snooping in another's garbage. Having regained himself, he turned and ran; the cloth he had fought so hard to grasp was forgotten in his panic.

When he finally stopped, he had run himself exhausted and fell to the ground, leaning in towards a pillar so he could sit without using his muscles. His bare feet bled from jumping over icy shards while being so cold, and he had not noticed having run onto a bridge. He hugged his knees, longing for comfort and warmth, but finding none. He was alone in the world, the falling snow slowly embracing him as though it wished for him the move and get going.

He had no recollecting of time passing, but a voice forced him to look up, for a moment scared that the man might be a bully. "A kid like you is needed by no-one. You will die a beggar's death." The voice seemed uncaring and cold, and the boy was just about to shy away when he stared into the black depths of the man's eyes. What he saw made him feel safe. He knew those eyes. Lonely, unloved. Unwanted. They understood each other without the boy having to speak.

Yet knowing the man had not realized this truth, he did speak. "You have the same eyes as me, Mister." A smile followed the words, revealing some incredibly healthy teeth for a street urchin.

The man looked taken aback, and his eyes searched the small body in his front. He felt something radiating from the small kid, something… powerful. "Do you want a purpose, boy?" he asked, before even giving himself more time to consider his choice. "Will you give everything you have to me?" He was drawn to the powers he felt within the boy, even if he knew not yet the abilities he asked for. And the boy was drawn to his eyes, knowing he had an emotional ally.

So he nodded, not needing much time to think. He was sure he saw a smile underneath the cloth around the man's face. "Then your abilities are mine from now on." Standing up on his sore feet, he wavered towards the man, hoping to find that passionate comfort his family had shown him. A hand reached for his hair, before pushing him forward. "Come with me."

They began walking, the small one fighting to keep up with the steps of the bigger. But already at the edge of the bridge, the boy staggered and fell, his whole body exhausted to the point where it no longer wanted to listen to his mind. With the reflexes of a ninja, the man grabbed him, a mix of surprise and annoyance covering his face. He lifted the body, the boy shooting him apologetic looks as though he was sad to bother him.

The adult was surprised to find the body cold against his chest, and he continued walking to find a suiting campsite. If the boy really had potential, he would be valuable enough to keep alive. And if he was freezing to death and probably starving too, he would not be surviving.

They reached a small clearing, and a fire was started, letting both of them warm up in the cold weather. It was first now the boy realized how badly he had been freezing, and he moved as close the fire as he was able to without getting burned himself. He wiggled with his toes to make sure he could still use them, and then let his eyes fall upon his savior. "What is your name, Mister?"

"What a childish question," the man said, sounding somewhat disapproving. "My name is Zabuza, a ninja of the Mist. But tell me… how old are you, boy?" he asked, his eyes narrowing at the boy, who was smiling weirdly at him. As if he knew something Zabuza did not known.

"I'm seven, Mister Zabuza," he said, still showing his teeth at the man. His eyes fell upon the flames, and he moved slightly away, feeling alive again. "My name is Haku." He wanted to impress the man, to show him that he was useful. He just did not know how, and his childish mind sought for a way to do so. This man… Mister Zabuza… wanted his powers…

The powers nobody else wanted, and which his mother had forbidden him from using. The powers he had been hurt by and hated for. Should he… Could he…?

Just as Zabuza reached in his pocket for a soldier pill for the boy, he felt a rise in the chakra-flow coming from the boy. He looked as a small had was raised towards the fire, stretched out so close that he was sure the smaller one would get burned. But it was as though the flames shied away from his fingers, unable to breathe in the area around his flesh.

The man stared in awe as the flames seemed to bow at the will of a boy, believing the young one was able to control the fire-element at this age. Then he noticed the tiny crystals springing from the tips of his small fingers, making the red waves slowly disappear. The truth was far better than he had hoped, and a feeling of triumph filled his chest.

The fire was extinguished, and Haku let his hand fall, sending a small look to the man. He feared to another try to kill him, another hateful look, a new person to fear him. But in the dark eyes of the man he hoped to save him, a fire stronger than the one he had just destroyed was burning. He saw pride in those eyes, and he jumped in joy and flung his arms around the man's chest.

For some reason, Zabuza could not bring himself to push the boy away, and he let his arms fall around the small shoulders of the boy. His insides were filled with a feeling he could not recognize, pleasantly hot and burning joyfully. He could feel the beginning of something powerful. He had gotten a perfect tool.


End file.
